


I Want To Deserve You

by AmberZ10



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harley Quinn (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Gen, One Shot, a very long one shot, young mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberZ10/pseuds/AmberZ10
Summary: Harley was 16. That was too young. She wasn't ready. So she gave her up.





	I Want To Deserve You

It was a white stick of urine-soaked plastic. That’s it. It wasn’t magic. Contained no special powers. It was simply a confirmation of what she already knew.

Maybe that was why she was so afraid of it. Because she already knew the plus sign would be there when she flipped it over. She’d known four days ago when she vomited. 2 days ago when her t-shirt was too tight. Yesterday when he shoved her to the ground and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her middle.

Harley was pregnant.

The timer rang on her phone…for the second time. She’d set it again just to make sure it was ready. Or…she was ready.

She wasn’t, obviously. She was 16 years old. A high school drop-out. Living in a filthy apartment with her abusive, drug-addicted boyfriend.

Harley picked up the bloodied bandages she’d used to stop the bleeding on her head-wound after he’d hit her with the gun, and wrapped up the needles he’d used to get high that morning, tossing it all in the garbage beside the toilet.

Getting rid of the evidence.

Not for the police. She would never call them. It was just nice not to be constantly reminded of the world she might be bringing a child into.

Her hands shook as she reached for the pregnancy test, but she flipped it quickly, with little hesitation or ceremony.

…

…

+.

…

He’d hit her for the last time.

He would never hit them. Not Harley and the baby.

Never.

/

Harley sniffed, fighting a losing battle against her tears as she clutched the sleeping bundle to her chest. “I didn’t eat organic all the time, I didn’t have the money, I’m sorry.” A tear trickled down her cheek, her body beginning to tremble. “I tried to do good. I don’t know if she’s sick. I’m so sorry if I messed her up, please tell her I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” the woman’s voice was kind. Warm. Like her mother’s had sometimes been before all this… “She’s a beautiful baby.”

“I didn’t name her yet.” Harley wiped roughly at her eyes with the back of one hand, the other still holding her baby. “The internet said if you name it you’re gonna get attached, and I can’t—I can’t—,”

The woman rubbed gentle circles on her back. “I know.”

“You really think she’s beautiful?” Harley asked, feeling her daughter’s warmth against her chest.

“Don’t you?”

“I can’t look,” Harley choked out through a sob she hoped wouldn’t wake the baby from her well-deserved sleep. “I don’t wanna look.”

/

So she was a little old to be a high school senior. Who cares?! She was 19, that wasn’t so bad. 19 with a fucking HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA!

Harley twirled around whimsically, shutting the door of her bedroom behind her and tossing her cap onto her bed.

The landlady didn’t like it when she screamed, and Harley was already a little (a week) late on rent, so she didn’t want to push her luck, but “AHHHHHHH!!!!”

With a happy sigh, she collapsed backwards onto the mattress, grinning up at her ceiling for a moment until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to tell someone. Rolling onto her stomach, Harley reached beneath her bed for the shoebox, carefully opening the lid and gently running her fingers over the folds in the blanket. 

“Your mom’s a high school graduate, Baby,” she whispered. “For real. I’m gonna go to college, can you even believe it?”

She waited for a moment, living into the silence, trying to get back that warmth she’d once felt against her chest. The rhythmic breathing of newborn lungs.

“I’m gonna be good enough someday. I promise.”

/

Lucy took the top block off her tower and then put it back on. She liked to finish things. It felt good. So she did it again.

And again.

And again.

And she would have done it again, if not for the man.

He was big, but he sat criss-cross-apple-sauce next to her, watching her finish and un-finish her building. He was wearing fancy clothes like from a movie and his hair was the same color as her darkest marker.

“Don’t you want to build it any higher?” he asked.

She shook her head, her blonde curls shaking with her.

“OK,” he nodded, smiling quietly and settling back in to watch her. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked a few finishes later.

“My name is Lucy,” she said, her eyes carefully drifting over to him. “I’m this many.” She held up four fingers.

“4…wow…you’re a big girl, Lucy.”

“Yeah.” She went back to her tower.

“My name is Bruce,” he told her. “And I’m…hm…let’s see…this many?” He had to use two hands twice to show her.

“That’s many.”

He laughed. “Yes, it is. Say…would you mind if I played with you?”

“Do you know how to blocks?” she wondered.

“I sure do.” Bruce smiled. “I have a son at home who loves to build towers just like this one.”

 _He has blocks at home??_ “You’re…you’re a daddy already?”

He nodded. “That’s right. I have two little boys, a little girl, and a very big house.”

“Is it…this big?” Lucy asked, spreading her arms wide for a measurement.

“Even bigger, like…bigger than this, even.” He held his arms out the same way.

_Wow…that’s pretty big._

“Would you…like to see it sometime? Maybe?”

Lucy nodded earnestly. “I want to go now.”  

/

Harley pulled up alongside the curb, rolling down her window to call out: “Hey, you Pamela?” to the redhead glancing down at her cellphone and then nervously looking around. 

“Oh, yes! I am.” She approached the car, dragging a suitcase behind her. “Harleen?”

“That’s me!” the blonde grinned. “But you can call me Harley, everyone does. You want me to open the trunk for that?”

Pamela looked confused for a moment before she evidently remembered her bag. “Yeah, I—that would be great. I’m sorry, I’ve never taken an Uber before.”

“You’re totally fine.” Harley waved that off, getting out of the car and taking her keys with her to pop the trunk. “You’re pretty enough to make it cute.”

The redhead smiled with teeth so white they nearly sparkled, her cheeks visibly warming as Harley took the bag from her and hoisted it into the trunk. “You’re very strong.”

Now it was Harley’s turn to blush. “I’ve—uh—yeah, I’ve been known to go to the gym.” _That was dumb. That sounded dumb. She probably hates you now._ “Anyway, should we get going?”

“Sure, yes, please,” Pamela seemed grateful for the subject change. “Backseat or front?”

“Front seat’s fine…or back seat,” Harley added quickly. “It’s really up to you. You’re the customer.”

“Right.” Pam smiled another perfect smile and chose the front seat.

Harley hustled to join her, opening the navigation app and placing her phone in the stand on the dashboard. “So…” she began once they got on the road. _She smells good_. “Whole Foods? Why do you need an Uber to Whole Foods?”

Pam had been responding to what looked like an email. “I just didn’t feel like parking downtown. One more thing to be stressed about.”

“Grocery shopping make you nervous?”

Her laugh was as smooth as her voice. Rich, like French vanilla ice cream or dove chocolate. “I’m a business owner,” Pam explained. “I have a meeting with management today to try and convince them to carry my product.”

Harley tried not to sound too embarrassed when she said. “Oh, got it.”

Some silence passed between them, Pam’s gaze drifting out the window, her green eyes watching the buildings go by while Harley tried to focus on the map.

“What’s your product?” Harley finally got up the courage to ask.

“Honey,” Pam said proudly. “I have a little farm out in the suburbs on the west side, it’s called G—.” She had turned around in her seat to reach into the back, obviously looking for her bag. “Fuck,” she muttered to herself. “Trunk.”

Harley had to stifle a laugh at her curse. It sounded sort of funny coming out of Pam’s perfect mouth.

“Gotham Honeypot,” she finished, twisting back into her seat with a certain dejection.

The blonde grinned. “I’ve never met a bee charmer before.”

Pam bit her plump lip. “Charmer is a bit generous.”

“Mm-mm,” Harley shook her head, undeterred. “You’re a regular Idgie Threadgoode. I can tell.”

/

Lucy frowned, clutching her doll to her chest for safety. “Who are you supposed ta be?”

“Selina. Lucy, we talked about t—,”

“I got it, Bruce. Let me try,” Selina cut him off, kneeling down beside the girl. Not too close, but close enough for Lucy to see that her eyes were green. She’d never seen green eyes like that. Her brothers and her sister and her dad all had blue eyes like her. _Pretty…_ “Lucy, my name is Selina. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

Lucy dropped her gaze, twisting her doll’s braid between her fingers. “I think you’re pretty. Are you my new mom?”

Selina laughed. “I’m not sure about that, Honey, but I do love your dad very much.”

“And he loves you too. He told me.”

That made Selina grin. “I was going to take the boys and Steph out for ice cream. You want to come?”

“Is Daddy coming?”

“Mm…I was thinking maybe it could just be the five of us,” Selina told her, moving a bit closer. “I’d love to get to know you better.”

Lucy had to think about it for a minute. “Yeah, OK, I guess. If I can get two scoops.”

Bruce was smiling just as big as Selina.

/

Harley dragged her feet, trying not to be tempted with all the food she couldn’t afford. Class was held downtown today, and she really didn’t feel like driving across town to go to her typical discount grocery store. She wondered if Whole Foods ramen tasted any better than the normal kind.

She was walking passed the peanut butter when something caught her eye that made her stop in her tracks. “Oh my god!” she said out loud—loud enough to startle the man who was just trying to buy bread at the other end of the aisle.

Harley had no idea why she was so excited about it, but next to the peanut butter and the Nutella was a whole shelf of jars labeled _Gotham Honey Pot_.

“That’s so awesome,” she said—again out loud—as she shook her head happily and snapped a picture.

She hoped she still had that lady’s number….

Frowning, Harley scrolled through her recent texts, having to go back almost 2 months. But there she was.

**!!! you did it!**

She attached the picture and sent the message before she realized Pamela would likely have no recollection of who she was. Fuck.

Even so, the reply came quickly.

 **555-890-7175: !!! I did! Funny, I thought I’d never hear from you again** **:)** The smiley face was blushing. **Thought either you died, or I wasn’t laying it on thick enough.**

Harley’s heart skipped a beat as she read.

**What do you mean?**

_You know what she means you idiot! God, why can’t you un-send a text?!_

**555-890-7175: …you’re straight, aren’t you.**

Harley was about to pass out right here in this grocery store.

**No! I mean, sorta, I sleep with guys, but girls are…yeah, they’re good.**

Her next message started with two laughing faces.

**555-890-7175: In other words…bisexual?**

_I’m such a fucking idiot._

**I’d be any kinda sexual for you.**

_OH MY GOD WHY AM I EVEN A PERSON????_

There were three laughing faces on this one (thank god).

**555-890-7175: What are you doing tonight, you smooth operator?**

_Besides committing suicide?_

**You tell me ;)**

/

Harley wasn’t sure why she found Pamela more attractive now than before. She was certainly less put together. No skirt suit, no makeup, no perfectly ironed blouse. Just worn out jeans and a dirty tank top. Her mane of red hair was tied up in a bandana, and she looked like she’d been working hard all day, sweat beading her forehead and soil caked on her hands.

She stood up in the garden as Harley approached. “You made it.”

“I mean…you sort of made the offer hard to refuse,” Harley laughed.

Pamela wiped her hands on her jeans, walking to meet her on the grass. “Sorry about the mess,” she indicated herself. “I should have invited you on a different night, but I was worried it would take you another two months to text me back.”

Harley’s face went red. “I didn’t think—I didn’t know…”

The redhead laughed, stopping Harley by placing a hand gently on her shoulder to look at her square on. “I may not be a frequent Uber costumer, but is it common practice for people to ask you to save their number?”

_…it wasn’t. Fuck._

“You hungry?” Pamela saved her from her shame-spiral. “Or thirsty, maybe?”

“For alcohol, yeah.”

Pamela laughed again, that laugh that Harley already loved so much. The sweetest sound she’d heard since…since the crying in that hospital room, and the sweet slumber that followed. “Red or white?”

/

“So…Harleen Quinzel…” Pamela smiled over her shoulder at her as she finished slicing the carrots. “Did you always want to be an Uber driver?”

Harley snorted. “Fuck no.”

“I’m surprised,” Pam chuckled, tossing the carrots in olive oil and sprinkling them with salt before laying them all out on a cookie sheet and sliding them into the oven. “You do it with such enthusiasm.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t hate it.” Harley took a sip of her wine. She hated wine, but Pamela looked very elegant when she drank it, and Harley wanted to look elegant. “I get to talk to people—I like that part of it. Could do without the driving, though.”

“Are you in school?”

Harley was impressed by how Pamela could maintain a conversation while having so many pots and pans on the stove. “Mhm, yeah,” Harley nodded. “Got a year left for the Bachelor’s, then the goal is med school, but…I don’t know. Wish I didn’t have to take out another loan.”

“Medical school.” Pam turned, leaning back against the counter and picking up her glass. “I’m very impressed. You want to be a doctor?”

“Yeah—well, a psychiatrist, but yeah, same deal, just with a notepad, not a scalpel.”

A smile grew slowly over Pamela’s lips. “You really do like talking to people, then.”

“I—mhm,” Harley just nodded, starring down into her wine. She couldn’t tell if Pamela was making fun of her or not, but she definitely felt stupid for some reason.

“I just got my PhD last year,” Pamela restarted the conversation after a moment of silence. She was beginning to heat the pan for their steaks. “Talk about a waste of money.”

Harley’s eyes snapped up. “You’re a PhD?”

“Mhm…botanical engineering.” Pamela smiled a satisfied little smile. “Completely unnecessary for my current field, but I’m petty. I like that people have to address me as ‘Doctor’.”

“That’s—no way,” Harley shook her head. “How old are you? How do you already have a PhD? I’m 23 and I don’t even have a bachelor’s.”

“Goodness, now I feel like a cradle robber,” Pamela laughed, adding some other unknown seasoning to the steaks. “I’m 30. Used to think that was young…but I’d kill to be 23 again.”

_You’ve got the ass of a 23-year-old._

_…_

_Thank god I didn’t say that out loud._

“I’ve never actually been with someone younger,” Pamela seemed to be realizing, her words pulling Harley’s eyes away from her ass. “Let’s see,” Pam turned around again. “Would you mind if I tried something?”

“Nope,” Harley shrugged. “Go ahead.”

Pamela had quickly jumped in the shower after she’d invited Harley inside, meaning wiping her hands on her apron was likely unnecessary, but Harley liked watching them…her hands…they were long and slender, and they’d worked with such precision chopping the vegetables and preparing the steak. Harley was so preoccupied with imagining them combing through her hair that she missed Pam cross the kitchen. Missed the feeling of warm breath on her lips. But she didn’t miss the kiss. That she was very much present for.

“Hmm…” Pamela said once they separated, her expression mock-pensive. “Yeah, no, can’t say it feels all that different.”

“You want to, um, try again, maybe?” Harley wondered, her voice barely escaping her throat. “You’re a scientist. Think you’re always supposed to check your work.”

“Mmm…” Pam pushed forward, settling nearly into Harley’s lap on the stool at the kitchen bar. “I think you’re right. In the spirit of the scientific method…”

Harley was ready this time, cupping Pam’s face as she leaned down. She wasn’t sure which was softer, Pam’s skin or her lips, but— _fuck, yeah, no, it’s her tongue. Winner is her tongue. That’s the softest._

/

“I have a real mommy, you know,” Lucy told her. “And she loved me a lot, that’s why she gave me to Daddy.”

“Oh?” Selina prompted, helping to pack her lunch for school. 

“Yeah,” Lucy nodded, tossing an apple and some goldfish in the bag. “She’s probably an astronaut or something really important. Astronauts are super busy in space and kids like me take a lot of time, so she let Daddy have me, I think.”

“Yeah, absolutely, that’s an important job,” Selina agreed, slicing the peanut butter and jelly sandwich down the middle and sliding it into a ziplock.

“I bet she’ll find me when she comes back home from space, though,” Lucy continued. “Bet she misses me a lot.”

Selina smiled kindly, running a gentle hand through the girl’s hair. “Yeah, Lucy, I bet she does. I know I would.”

Lucy stopped, her hands stilling on the counter. She was quiet for a moment before she turned to look at Selina. “You can be my mom if you want, though. Until she comes back.”

/

“How’d you get to be so perfect?” Harley asked, her finger tracing up and down Pam’s spine.

Pam’s eyelids fluttered open, their green bright enough to almost glow in the darkness of the bedroom. “I’m not perfect, Daffodil.”

“More perfect than me,” Harley whispered, feeling tears begin to mount behind her eyes. She had no idea why she always felt so emotional after being with Pam…maybe it was because she was one of two lovers who had ever made her cum. Or maybe it was just a gay thing. Two women being around each other for too long just naturally made their cycles synchronize. 

“Why do you say that?”

Harley could imagine how Pam’s lips curled around the words without actually being able to see them.

The blonde settled down into the pillow, covering Pam’s bare back with the blanket. “Cuz I’ve done bad things,” she whispered.

“And so has everyone else, Sweetpea, that’s what it is to be human.” Pam turned onto her side from her stomach, her hand finding Harley’s beneath the covers.

The blonde gripped her hand tightly, never wanting to let it go, but fearing Pam would someday rip it away. “Pamela...”

“Yes?”

“I have to tell you something.”

“Then tell me.”

“You might hate me for it.”

Pam propped herself up onto her elbow. “Harleen, I could never hate you.”

When Harley blinked, her tears dripped down her face and onto her pillow. “Please don’t be angry.”

“Harl, honey,” she leaned down to kiss her forehead. “It’s been well established that I can’t stay mad at you for more than a few minutes. Why are you crying?”

She had to get it out. All of it. She had to tell somebody. Had to tell Pam. She was so done feeling guilty for this secret. “Pam, I had a baby.”

The circles Pam was making with her thumb on the back of Harley’s hand stopped, and Harley’s stomach dropped immediately. _She’s angry._

Pam twisted around, flipping on the bedside lamp. But she didn’t look angry, just…legitimately confused. “What do you mean?”

“When I was 16,” Harley clarified. “I had a baby girl and I gave her up. Her dad hit me and I wasn’t ready.” Her tears dripped down her chin. “I gave her to an orphanage and I don’t know if she’s OK.”

“Foster care.”

“What?” Now Harley was the one confused.

“You put her into foster care. This isn’t fucking Annie anymore, Harleen.” Pam sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and hunching over, facing the wall away from Harley.

Harley sat up too. “P—Pam? W—Are you actually mad?”

“I’m not mad, Harley,” Pamela snapped. “Just give me a minute. I need a minute.”

Harley picked at the blanket, wishing she could take it back. _She probably hates me now_. “You sound mad.”

“Why would I be mad at you, Harleen?” Pam whipped around, and Harley found the other woman’s eyes were also glassy with tears. “You were 16 and he was abusive. Why would I blame you?”

“I don’t know!” Harley cried harder. “Why are you yelling at me?!”

Pam just shook her head, screwing her eyes shut tight. “I’m not yelling.” She didn’t speak again for a while, and Harley didn’t dare make a noise other than the occasional sniff. “Maybe it was easier on her,” Pam finally murmured. “It’s not the same for everyone.”

“Eas—easier for her than who?”

“Easier for her than it was for me.” Pam’s eyes opened, and she looked into Harley’s bearing all her truth. All the pain Harley hadn’t been able to see before. “Before I went into foster care, I thought my father killing my mother would be the worst thing to ever happen to me.” She shook her head. “There was worse.”

Harley may have had a psychology degree, but she had no earthly idea of how to respond to that. _Her dad did WHAT?_ “Pam…I didn’t—you never…I’m sorry…”

“No, no, stop.” Pam looked so guilty it hurt, and she held her arm out to keep Harley at bay. “Don’t apologize. I’m sorry. I want to be able to tell you she’s OK. I wish I could.” She hugged herself, rocking subtly back and forth.

Not once in the year they’d been together had Pamela needed comforting. Not once. Harley would cry, and Pam would hold her, kiss her on the forehead and whisper reassurances into her hair. That’s what Harley thought she might be getting tonight. But now she realized it was her turn to step up to the plate. Pam had been a child once too, and it was beginning to sound like there had been no one there to comfort her, just like there might be no one there to comfort Harley’s daughter.

So Harley grew bigger and wrapped Pam up in her arms, steadying her rocking. “Shhh….It’s OK, Pammy…” That made her cry harder, but she curled into Harley’s chest as she did. “It’s OK to be sad.”

/

Lucy dove, reaching as far as was humanly possible to knock the ball away before it crossed the goal line.

“Yes! Great save!”

She heard Bruce’s voice above all the rest, and grinned despite herself. This was a very serious situation, they were only up by one goal and this team was supposedly a lot better than them, but she just had to smile. Everybody liked Lucy’s dad. He was tall and handsome and rich and funny. Basically the best dad ever, and he was Lucy’s. And the best part? He had chosen her. She hadn’t just been born, she’d been chosen.

Chosen by Bruce Wayne himself.

The time ticked down on the clock and the buzzer rang, and Lucy ran screaming to the middle of the field to join her teammates in celebration.

And there was her dad, standing on the bleachers, clapping louder than all the rest.

She imagined, someday, there might be a time when she’d look over and see her mom standing there too. Not Selina, she loved it when Selina came. But her real mom. Back from space, or just home from her rock tour with her band, or flying in from Africa where she saved babies or something.

Something important enough for her to miss all this.

Important enough for her to never know Lucy.

/

“So….” Pam grinned, holding something behind her back. “Are you ready for the big unveiling?”

“Yes,” Harley laughed. “Please, god, let me see it already!”

“OK, look, this is just a mockup, alright?” Pam reminded her for the thousandth time. “We can change the design if you hate it, but I sort of love it, so I hope you love it too.”

“I’m sure I will, Babe. Lord knows you paid enough fuckin’ money for it.”

“Hey!” Pam clearly resented that. “I resent that.”

_Mhm ;)_

After a quick shake of her head, Pam took a deep breath and pulled the honey jar out from behind her back—the one sporting the brand new label. “What do you think?”

Harley didn’t speak at first, just looked, eyes wide. “You changed the name too?”

Pam was somehow smiling even wider than before. “I did. Do you like it?”

_Bee Charmer Inc._

Harley was gonna cry. Actually, she was crying. She reached out with grabby hands, wordlessly asking that Pam hand her the jar. When she did, Harley ran her thumbs over the label lovingly. “You changed it for me?”

Pam shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

“Pam, I—,”

That’s when something caught her eye inside the jar. At the bottom, submerged in honey.

It was very shiny.

Pam was watching her very carefully. “There something in there?” she asked, even though Harley knew the question was rhetorical.

“Yes,” Harley said, as an answer to the question she’d asked and the one she was about to ask.

She unscrewed the top of the jar, shoving her hand in the sticky honey rather unceremoniously and fishing out the ring that had settled at the bottom. And now she was laughing. Laughing and crying. It wasn’t the most enticing sound, but she didn’t care. This was hands down the best moment of her life. “Pamela, why on earth did you—,”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes, but why did you put the ring in a jar of fucking honey?!”

Pam was laughing too now. “I don’t know! I panicked!”

“You’re so weird.” Harley dropped the jar, flinging her arms around Pam’s shoulders—matting Pam’s hair with honey—and kissing her with everything she had. “God, I love you.”

“Good,” Pam giggled, fruitlessly trying to get the honey off her neck. “Because you’re going to be my wife.”

/

Harley’s hands unclenched from around the blankets, her body gradually relaxing as she came down from her peak. _Fuck_. “I guess…you’re my…bee charmer now…” she panted.

Pam smirked, withdrawing her fingers and licking them clean. “I guess so.”

/

“Um, hey, Dad?”

“Hm?”

Bruce didn’t look up from his computer, so Lucy remained in the doorway. “I—can I ask you a question?”

“Yes…give me one…moment…” his fingers continued to clack on the keys, but then he stopped with a contented sigh, resting his hands on the desk and fully acknowledging her. “What’s up?”

Lucy smiled at that. He never said ‘what’s up’. It sounded funny in his voice. “I was just wondering about my mom.”

“She’ll be back in town on Wednesday, her installation was extended in Prague.”

“No, um…” Lucy scuffed her bare foot on the rug. “Not Selina…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I just, uh…I think she might be dead.” She braved another look at him.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because she hasn’t come back for me.”

He nodded at that, but his eyes looked sad.

“Is my mom dead?”

Bruce pursed his lips. “Do you want the honest answer?”

 _No. I want her to be an astronaut_. “Yes.”

He sighed. “The truth is I don’t know, Lucy. I don’t know who she is, or where she is. The only thing I know for sure is that she wanted a closed adoption.”

Her heart beat faster in her chest. “What does that mean?”

“It means she doesn’t know who you are, or where you are either. And you can’t legally unseal those documents for another 4 years.”

_She’ll miss my entire childhood._

_She’s already missed it._

“So…you never knew her?” Lucy asked, trying not to sound so heartbroken. “Do you know what she looks like, at least?”

“Mm…no,” Bruce admitted. “But I can make a guess.”

Lucy waited.

“I’m sure she’s beautiful. Just like you.”

/

“I’m so proud of you.”

Harley tried to roll her eyes, but she was smiling too big. “Yeah, I know I know.”

Pam was straightening her tie for the billionth time. The one that was already perfectly straight. “You’ve worked so hard.”

“Stop it.” Harley had to look away. “You’re making me blush.”

“Your first client.” Pam kissed her on the cheek. “You’re going to be incredible, you know that, right?”

Harley just shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about it, but gratefully accepting all of her wife’s affection.

“You’ll call me after? Tell me how it went?”

Harley kissed her on the lips, leaving her eyes open to watch Pam’s long eyelashes flutter shut. “Of course,” she whispered, barely separating.

“OK.”

She caught a look at herself in the mirror on the way out of the house. She’d had her blazer tailored so it fit her just right, Pam had shined her briefcase and helped her with her hair, and her glasses made her look very grown up.

And that’s when Harley realized she looked grownup because she was.

She smiled, continuing out of the house and closing the front door behind her, but remaining on the porch for a moment. After checking over her shoulder, she knelt down, opening her briefcase and pulling out that soft blue blanket, running her fingers over the ridges of the folds. “I think I’d deserve you, baby. If then was now.”

/

“You sure you got everything?” Selina prompted from where she leaned against the doorframe in Lucy’s now empty bedroom.

“Yep,” Lucy zipped up her suitcase. “Think so.”

Selina let her eyes drift around the room, pretending to be checking her work…but Lucy knew she was sad. “I’m really gonna miss you, Kid.”

“I know, Mom.”

“Do you, um—,” Selina stopped to clear her throat. “Do you need anything? From me? I mean, do you need anything else?”

Lucy pursed her lips. “Maybe just one thing.”

/

Pam shoved the paperwork from her desk into her briefcase, checking her watch as she snapped it shut.

She groaned when her phone rang in her pocket, answering it begrudgingly as it was her executive line. “Bee Charmer Inc., you’ve got Pam Isley because my receptionist doesn’t screen my calls even though that’s the only reason I pay her.”

“Jesus Christ, Pammy,” the woman on the other end of the call laughed. “You’ve gotta work on that greeting.”

Pam stopped, freezing in the center of the room. She knew that voice. And knew the only person to ever call her “Pammy” besides Harley. “S—Selina?”

“Hi.”

She could picture Selina’s sly smile as she said it.

“I’m—how did you—,” Pam was at a loss. She hadn’t spoken to Selina in…nearly 26 years now. “I only give this number out to business associates, how did you—.”

“Had to pull a few strings, doll, but you know me. Always have strings to pull.”

“Well I’m—I’m so happy you did.” Pam was trying very hard not to cry. “You’re OK? I’m late for a board meeting, but you’re OK?”

“Yes…” it sounded like she wanted to laugh, but simply couldn’t. “I wish I called for us, but I’m actually hoping to talk to your wife?”

“My wife?”

“If her name is Harleen Quinzel, then yes.”

/

“I don’t understand,” Harley said—again—as they pulled past the gate down the long driveway. “Is this like a business dinner thing? Did he buy stock or something?”

“No.” Pam shut the car off. “We’re not here to talk to Bruce Wayne.”

Harley frowned. “But…this is Bruce Wayne’s house.”

Pam nodded, opening the door. “You’re right.”

“W—Pam!” she called after her, though Pam was already out of the car, crossing to Harley’s side to let her out as well. “Why are you being so cryptic?!”

She waited until she’d helped Harley out of the car to speak. “There’s a chance you’ll be furious with me after this. Maybe I should have done it differently. Maybe we should have sat down together and made a decision. You have every right to be mad if you’re mad, just…don’t be mad in front of her, please.”

“Who’s her?!” Harley demanded.

Pam took her hand. “Someone who really wants to meet you.”

/

Lucy sat on one of the long couches in the living room, smoothing down the already smooth denim of her jeans. Bruce squeezed her knee from where he sat beside her, while Selina stood nervously at the window, watching the driveway.

When her breath caught in her throat, Lucy knew a car was approaching. A car containing the woman who gave birth to her, in whatever form she took.

Selina pressed her hand to her glass, and Lucy realized Selina might be more nervous than she was. Which was…odd. Maybe she was afraid of being replaced?

“You’re still my Mom, Selina,” Lucy told her, thinking maybe that was what she needed. And actually, it felt pretty good to say.

“Yes, I know,” she replied quickly, her nose about a centimeter from the window.

Puzzled, Lucy looked over at Bruce, who leaned in to whisper, “You’re not the only one who’s meeting someone for the first time again.”

Great. Dad turned into a fortune cookie.

In another minute or so, the doorbell rang, but the sound paled in comparison to the volume of Lucy’s pulse in her ears.

She didn’t want her mother to be an astronaut anymore. She knew she wasn’t a superhero off saving the world. She just…wanted her to be a human woman capable of holding a conversation long enough for Lucy to ask her “Why?”

Selina started almost at a jog to the front door, and Lucy followed slowly. Not all the way out into the atrium, but far enough to where she could hear her greeting.

She heard Selina take a deep breath, and then heard the twist of the door handle, and then another woman’s voice say: “Cat.”

Not totally sure what was going on, Lucy ventured a few steps further, until she could see the front door, but was still hidden from sight by a large bannister.

There were two women standing outside. One was exceptionally pretty—like, Lucy wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anyone so beautiful in person, and Selina was really, really beautiful. This lady had long red hair, cheek bones that looked like they belonged on a marble statue, and eyes a deeper green than Selina’s.

As Lucy was studying her, Selina suddenly lunged forward, wrapping the redhead up in a tight hug. “Pammy…” her voice was choked with emotion like Lucy had never heard before.

_Who’s Pammy?_

That’s when the second woman stepped inside.

She was blonde, maybe a few years younger than the redhead, with big blue eyes, and— _that’s my mother_.

Lucy knew it immediately, not a doubt in her mind.

 _That’s my mother_.

“God, I hate that you’re still so hot,” Selina was telling the redhead, tears in her eyes now.

“Pam, honey, who’s this?” Lucy’s mother asked, clearly just as confused by this display as Lucy was.

_That’s her voice. That’s my mother’s voice._

“We grew up together,” the redhead spoke, cupping Selina’s face like she was made of porcelain. “She ran away from the foster home. I thought I’d never see her again.”

_Foster home?_

Without thinking, Lucy stepped out from behind the bannister. “What foster home?”

The three of them turned, all looking at Lucy and Bruce as he arrived behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Her foster sister,” Bruce told her, nodding at the redhead. “Like me, and like you, Selina was an orphan.”

Lucy blinked. “Mom?” she was speaking to Selina, but found the blonde’s eyes hadn’t left her since she’d appeared.

“Pam…” she spoke quietly, not seeming to even blink. “Why am I here?”

“Because there’s someone that wants to meet you, Harleen,” Selina answered for her. “This…is my adopted daughter Lucy.”

Lucy wasn’t blinking either now.

“Lucy…this is Harleen Quinzel. You’re her daughter too.”

Harleen’s jaw shook, her eyes widening like the world was all too much to take in.

The redhead—Pam—took her hand, gripping it reassuringly and watching as Harleen put it together. “This is your daughter, Sweetpea.”

 _Sweetpea? Were they_ …Lucy’s eyes drifted to their joined hands, the matching rings… _Is my mom a lesbian? How does that work?_

“Is—she—she’s my—that’s my baby?” Harleen’s voice shook, so quiet Lucy could barely hear it in the cavernous room with the still open door.

“That’s your baby,” Pam confirmed, while Selina nodded.

“She’s—she’s here? she lives here? In this b—in this big house?”

“Since she was four years old,” Bruce smiled, squeezing Lucy’s shoulder. “She’s heading off to Stanford for school tomorrow, but she wanted to make sure to meet you first.”

The blonde took a wobbly step forward, a tear rolling down her cheek. “You’re not sick.”

“No—I—I’m not sick,” Lucy confirmed, barely breathing.

“You’re OK?”

“I am…”

“You’re my baby.” She released Pam’s hand. “My beautiful…beautiful baby.”

Lucy nodded, feeling a tear drip down her own cheek. “Are you—an astronaut?” she had no idea why that was the question that slipped out. That’s not the one she’d wanted to ask. But suddenly, it’s all she wanted to know.

“No,” Harleen laughed, the sound high and oh so happy. “No, I’m a psychiatrist.”

“A doctor?”

“Yes.”

“Well that’s—,” Lucy wiped a tear from her eye. “That’s a very important job. Must keep you super busy.”

“Never busy enough to stop thinking about you.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first one-chapter fic. Just trying to get myself out of a writer's block so I can write the ANI epilogue.


End file.
